


Convergence

by Anonymous



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Altenative Universe, M/M, Paranormal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 23:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: For Shinigami714 on Tumblr





	Convergence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shinigami714](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinigami714/gifts).



> For Shinigami714 on Tumblr

The strangest things can sometimes happen in the most natural of ways.

Kili was playing on the xBox when the reality to his right shimmered and revealed a blond, who was so startled, he actually dropped his mug of tea. It was the movement that caught Kili’s attention and made him jump.

The blond said something but with his massive noise-cancelling headphones on, all Kili could hear was the artificial sounds of his console.

He reached to pause the game, but by the time he looked back the blond was gone and the rest of his living room looked its usual, typical mess.

The floor was dry.

 

* * *

 

Fili never believed in the supernatural and there was nothing to suggest that his flat might have been haunted. It was a 1990s development, for God sakes!

And yet there was no denying what he saw, walking into his bathroom for a quick shower one day. There, in front of Fili’s own sink, a young brunet in nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, was casually brushing his teeth.

Fili re-coiled in shock, caught startled brown eyes in the mirror and then everything was gone.

He must have blinked, he supposed.

He would have been prepared to write it off as a temporary lapse of sanity after a long day, but this was a _second_ time this has happened and Fili was not impressed.

So instead he picked the toilet brush and carefully prodded the space where the brunet had just been standing. He was expecting it to at least burst into flame or disappear into some void –

Nothing happened.

Except Fili felt stupid.

Still, the following afternoon found him deep in the internet search.

 _Do ghosts reflect in mirrors?_ he typed in, feeling no less stupid than before.

He found nothing but a pile of creepy stories about Bloody Mary and some hair-rising paranormal footage which claimed to be genuine, all of which did absolutely nothing to help his fraying nerves.

That night Fili dreamt that the brunet was standing over his bed, watching him sleep.

 

* * *

 

The third time Kili saw the blond, he was the only one who noticed.

The guy was trying to retrieve something from a high shelf, using a kitchen stool instead of a ladder.

Kili, who had been working on a project with his friend Tauriel, was determined he not to make a show of himself.

Fate disagreed.

He watched the stool wobble precariously on two legs as the blond pushed up on his toes and started hauling a heavy – looking suitcase and despite himself Kili launched himself to stabilise it.

It was a reflex.

By the time his hands were closing around the seat, the stool was no longer there.

Tauriel didn’t believe him of course, yet all Kili could think of was whether the blond was okay.

 

* * *

 

Fili was not okay.

He had some serious bruising to his hip and to make things worse, he twisted his ankle, landing in an awkward attempt to cushion his own fall. He still couldn’t quite believe how much of an injury a simple slip in his own house could cause.

The doctor grounded him for a week, which meant that Fili was flat-bound.

It was only a matter of time.

The brunet appeared on the fourth day, casually strolling into Fili’s bedroom with a textbook in his hands. Remarkably, his side of the room seemed much darker than Fili’s side.

This time Fili didn’t try any sudden movements; it wasn’t like he could get very far anyway.

The brunet stopped dead in his tracks and for a moment the two of them stared at each other.

Then the brunet’s gaze shifted to Fili’s leg, propped up on pillows and with a soggy bag of peas draped over it. He seemed to reach out to touch it and say something, when everything disappeared and Fili’s bedroom was back to normal.

 

* * *

 

In view of no logical explanation, and the whole world left to prove his sanity to, Kili turned to the obvious: a camera.

He set one in the kitchen, figuring that it was the one place that hasn’t been ‘haunted’ yet, so it was probably due.

He switched it on in the morning before rushing to his classes and came back with every intention of catching the ghost red-handed, probably stealing Kili’s choco-pops.

The batteries ran out after four hours, but did record enough material for Kili to spend his entire evening watching it like a hawk.

There was nothing. Nothing at all.

 

* * *

 

Next time Fili was prepared: he set the whiteboard in the living room, but on the way to the kitchen – in the one part of the flat that was in use the most.

On it, questioning his sanity for the up-tenth time, he wrote: _Who are you and what do you want?_

It was a week before he spotted a response, shimmering slightly - a piece of paper with an uneven scrawl, blue-tagged to the closed door of his living room:

_For you to get out of my flat and go haunt someone else._

Somehow it made Fili smile. He could practically hear the petulance in that one sentence.

 _You’re the one doing the haunting_ , he wrote back, then added: _do you take bribes?_

 

* * *

__  
_ _

Kili snorted. “I am _real_ , asshole,” he muttered and padded to the kitchen for a stick of Pepperami.

He chewed thoughtfully for a while, before returning to the living room door and changing the piece of paper for a new one.

 _Elaborate on bribes,_ he wrote. _How is your leg?_ he added below, and finally: _I’m Kili, by the way!_

 

* * *

__  
_ _

It became something of a Thing between them. Six months later and they have exchanged messages about their favorite books, compared TV shows, learned about each other’s occupation and working hours and were currently going through a range of food topics.

The problem was that there was no way to tell when the next message might be visible – sometimes they managed a dozen messages in a day, sometimes only one a week.

Another problem was that Fili was beginning to look forward to them. They provided a pleasant alternative to the messages that the world broadcasted at him: messages of religious extremism and a dangerous new sect, which seemed to swallow whole nations one by one.

 _It’s not so great here,_ he wrote. _If there’s no response for a while, don’t worry. I’ll be fine._

 

* * *

____  
_ _ _ _

Kili trailed around his flat uneasily.

They still saw each other from time to time, sometimes while writing their responses. But it was different now - they smiled at each other, winked, gave a little wave; they felt at ease.

Kili needed to see Fili _now_.

It’s been close to a year and the only way Kili could think about the blond now, was as this odd, part-time house-mate. They learned to leave multiple messages simultaneously, usually on post it notes in spots where they were likely to glance, so it was more like a multi-layered discussion between them, than a single dialogue.

This morning Kili replaced all of them with just one lot, repeated over and over again: _Are you alright? What is happening in your world?_

 

* * *

___  
_ _ _

Fili couldn’t tell when the theory of a ghost gave way to a theory of a parallel universe.

But it was before. Before any of this made any sense.

Now Fili knew that aside from the astrological plane, Earth also had an astral plane. It kept things in balance and the world orbited safely around –

Nobody really knew what it orbited around; Fili suspected that the answer was simply ‘other worlds’.

And now they were screwing around with it. ‘Higher plane of existence’, they advertised and millions fell for it.

Billions even.

Enough, in either case.

 

* * *

___  
_ _ _

It was such a fleeting moment that if Kili blinked, he would have missed it, walking back to his kitchen with an empty bowl of cereal.

But suddenly there was no kitchen. The back wall of it disappeared, along with the kitchen cabinets, plants on the windowsills and Fili’s preferred blue curtains. It looked as if everything was being sucked in by some giant vortex, and now the kitchen floor was no more too –

In front of him, less than a foot away, stood Fili, pale and clutching at the disintegrating doorframe.

Kili reached out on impulse, managed to grab a hold of his shirt, felt the fingers of his other hand close around Fili’s wrist, just before his whole body was violently yanked backwards.

“No!”

He held on.

The hand clutching at his own was real and Kili realised that if he let go, Fili would be no more.

He hauled, one leg propped against his side of the door frame for something to push against –

It was over as quickly as it started: the kitchen was back, complete with walls, cupboards and his kitsch Turkish rug.

He felt the solid weight land heavily on top of him and grabbed at it just in case.

“You pulled me through,” Fili panted, clutching at Kili just as tightly. “They said nobody would be able to cross.”

He sounded different to what Kili had imagined and suddenly Kili wanted to hear more of that voice.

“Well, you were my ghost after all and I wasn’t going to let you go so easily.”

“Now who’s haunting who,” Fili muttered and rolled heavily to one side.

Kili propped himself on one elbow so he could take a closer look at Fili’s blue eyes, the profile of his nose and a mess of blond hair which may have once been pulled into a high bun. “Tell me that you’re real.”

“Thanks to you, I am,” Fili squeezed his hand. “Tell me that you are.”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” he said and did the one thing he’s wanted to do for a very long time:

He kissed Fili.


End file.
